


Another day in Sindria

by orphan_account



Series: Bloodbath [1]
Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Anima cruelty, Blood, Dissection, Gore, Ja’far killing a bunny okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24318742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ja’far loved his home, and his family. But sometimes he itches to go back to the throat cutting and merciless assassin he once was.
Series: Bloodbath [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804516
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	Another day in Sindria

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for gore, dissection, Ja’far killing a bunny.

Scrolls.

Scrolls, scrolls, scrolls.

It had been his objective for a long time, carrying scrolls, writing on them, laying them carefully on a shelf.

His work circled around scrolls and papers and _ink_.

It still felt out of place for him. No knives, no pain and no _blood_. No screams of fear and and pleads of mercy.

Nothing of the sort.

It _itched_ , deep inside of him Ja’far could still feel the clawing, the primal side of him trying to make him indulge in his secret desire.

“Ja’far?” Sinbad asked, watching his advisor with a knowing look. But Ja’far could still sense the curiosity behind.

“Yes, my King?” Ja’far looked back at his king, grey eyes staring at the rich purple hair falling in waves over broad shoulders.

“I’m guessing your wild side wants to take over again, huh?” Sinbad laughed. Ja’far found himself far form amused though.

“Don’t call it that please.” Ja’far sneered, giving Sinbad a look of disappointment. The last look he gave him before walking off, through the corridors and past the servants.

He liked the people here.

No knives, no pain and no _blood_.

Nothing that could hurt him.

Ja’far knew the irony of it all, his love to bring the pain, tear out the blood from someone’s pulsing veins. He loved it.

What he didn’t like had to be the pain he experienced himself, _every_ scar carved into his body from years of torture, years of adventuring and years of fighting.

Here, away from Sham Lash’s dusty corridors and looming people, humans turned into well trained beasts, sharpened like knives for hunting.

Hunting and _killing_.

Here, in Sindria, everyone seemed happy, going about their normal routines and not a speck of dirt or grime or blood tainted anything.

Surprising many had to be that his favourite colour wasn’t white. Or green. Or black.

It was _red_.

Red like a sun disappearing behind the horizon, red like Masrur’s hair, red like warm blood gliding down over sharpened metal.

He knew what he needed to do. Last time these thoughts had cluttered up his mind he had taken his anger out on a person. And Sin had gotten mad, but if a simple animal dies, Sin wouldn’t care, right?

He wandered out, far away from the castle, ignoring the odd looks he got form servants and maids alike, no, the only thing that mattered was his target, or his prey to be exact.

The forests of Sindria has a special place in his heart, if you wandered far enough nobody would notice you, leaving only peace and as much quiet as you could get from a forest.

Ja’far hurried to get his robe off form his body, fingers quick and frustrated as he tore the binding off, tone falling off his shoulders, leaving him in only trousers and shirt.

He stood there, feeling almost naked as the cold sea breezes managed to crawl their way up even here.

His eyes landed on a bunny not far away, nose buried in a patch of grass.

The wind travelled from the bunny to Ja’far, so it shouldn’t be able to smell him.

Ja’far in swift motion, jumped, hands moving quickly as he took a hold of the small bunny.

Fluffy.

Small and fluffy.

His grin stretched wide, the small animal in his hands fought against his grip, but it didn’t succeed in escaping.

——————

He forgot the whines an animal made when it got hurt.

Ja’far frowned, the sound was loud. And annoying.

His cute cold fingers gripped around the neck, squeezing a little more by the second.

The bunny whined, the noise getting cut off by Ja’far’s fingers cutting off its airways.

The bunny fell limp, the small body he had clutched in his hand.

“You should be glad, that I’m not doing this while you’re alive.” Ja’far mumbled, eyes darkening by the second.

He searched around his clothes, taking out a small rusty knife. The rusty one didn’t make clean cuts, no, they claw at the skin before it tears. Perfect for torture, or something else from the more, bloody nature.

He realised quickly that the rusty knife wouldn’t keep the thing whole, so he put that aside after having scooped the eyes out, two holes staring at him from the head.

Ja’far hummed, a song he used to sing when he was younger. He had never forgotten it, but now it slithered into his head as he grabbed the bunny’s hind leg, pulling slowly, slowly, until it had been twisted into a gross angle, and finally it a popping and cracking noise greeted his ears.

A final hard tug was what sent the hind leg off it’s body, fur matted with streams of blood, the skin barely covering the bone.

“Mother didn’t want you, father didn’t love you,” Ja’far began, his tone light but emotionless, his eyes trained on the limbs he pulled off, the excitement and nausea hitting him slowly, his face morphed into a grin, eyes teary as he looked down at his soiled hands.

“Sister was jealous and brother despised you,” Ja’far let his voice get louder, not caring if anyone heard him.

“Catch me once, catch me twice,” The last limb popped off, blood smearing the ground and his once pristine clothes.

“I’ll leap of the tallest tower, if only for you. Catch me once, catch me twice, and I’ll never leave.” Ja’far put a finger near the bone, scratching it with his nail.

His singing died off, lips stopping as he stared down at his work.

Eyes gouged out, limbs pulled off, blood everywhere.

Finally, finally the excitement and adrenaline coursed through him fully, blood thrumming against his ears.

“...beautiful, you’re so beautiful, my saviour and my love.” Ja’far mumbled, flicking his wired blades into his hands, putting the sharp tip to the carcass’s back, in a quick and sharp cut he tore a red line down its back.

The fur and skin made way as he neatly pulled it apart, seeing the white spine in masses of blood.

“My love, my saviour, my prey and my life,” Ja’far started again as he pulled the skin off, using his knife to scrape the skin and bloody fur off the bone. The skin came off under his skilled hands, patched of fur being pulled off more and more, the bone showing through the patches. The head was still fully covered in fur, he had been leaving it for last.

He held the ribcage with a careful hand, making sure to not let the organs drop out of the corpse as he pulled out the skin and once soft fur.

It brought a feeling to him, the warm sticky blood and hard bone, the sharp metal that made up his most priced possession, tearing apart something other than his useless work when he did this. His skills may have gotten rusty over the years, but he was slowly sharpening away that rust, leaving only a gleaming blade after.

The heap of skin sat in pile away from him, and he looked through the rib cage, sticky patches of muscle and tissue still sat on the bone, but he didn’t care.

He turned the body over, breaking the ribcage with his hands, peeking in and over the organs.

“Ja’far?”

Oh, he forgot about him.

“Masrur.” Ja’far turned to look at the Fanalis, carcass in hand.

Masrur stood still, red eyes meeting red blood as he stared down at Ja’far’s handiwork.

“Are you working?” Masrur sounded like a child. Masrur had asked the same thing last time the red head had caught him red handed so to speak.

Ja’far smiled. “Yes.” He thought over it for a second, and quickly added, “Do you want to see?”

Masrur stared, standing still and tall before he moved, sitting down a meter away from Ja’far, the heap of skin and fur catching his eyes.

“Pretty, isn’t it? It was very soft.” Ja’far smiled fondly, smiling like an older sibling would to their younger sibling. In the end, they kinda were, Masrur looked on blankly, like a younger sibling watching something their older sibling would, maybe he wouldn’t mimic it, but he observed it all the same.

After all of that, they left, leaving the blood to wash off in a nearby stream, and the mauled carcass in different heaps, broken bones and blood and muscle and tissue pulled out, leaving it for the birds and whatever carnivore to eat.

**Author's Note:**

> I read a fuck ton of stuff, all across different genres, but I don’t write much of different genres. Gonna try to change it :)
> 
> Oh, btw, I was listening to How Beautiful It Is by Must Save Jane during this. Some of the lyrics Ja’far sings is taken from there.


End file.
